It's About Time
by LoveNCreativity
Summary: She's fed up with her absentee boyfriend of 5 years, non-existent relationship and the lack of passion in her life. He's a risk-taker, living life to the fullest, and looking for some fun. Their meeting might be out of the ordinary, or part of the norm. It's hard to say in this day and age. But, one thing's for sure. It's about time. AU
1. Chapter 1

►Chapter One◄**  
**

"Rory, you're thirty and single." Paris glared at me.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious." Lying on the sofa with my feet dangling off the arm, I put the book I was reading on my chest.

"Seriously, I never in a million years thought I would be the one to marry first." She came over, no longer fussing over the exact number of cheerios going into her breakfast bowl, and stole my book away.

"Hey-"

"What is this?" A strand of my hair was suddenly in her hand.

"My hair that you are about to pull out?" I winced.

"Rory, you haven't washed your hair or gotten out of your sweats for three days. And, you've been eating a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts three meals a day." Flopping down beside my head, she continued. "You need to get your act together, my friend. I can't have a fat, pathetic maid of honor. That looks bad on me. And Doyle. He's already going to be the shortest person in the crowd minus the flower girl and ring-bearer. He can't have a bride with a lame best friend as well."

I sat up. "Paris, leave me alone."

Just as I was getting up to stomp to the kitchen, looking for more donuts, the front door opened. I froze in my spot.

"Hey." Dean stood at the doorway. His hair was in his eyes, as usual.

"What are you doing here?" I glanced back at Paris. Did she tell him to come?

"Rory." He advanced towards me.

I backed away, the back of my knee stabbing into the hard edge of the couch.

"Listen to me."

"No, stop. Just go away." Anger rushed to my head. How dare he barge into my friend's apartment looking for me after what he did?

"Lindsay and I are over. It was a mistake. It meant nothing." His voice was low, as if talking to a misbehaving child.

"How could you?" My voice rose several octaves. "Five years together, plus all those years while we were younger, and you do this?"

He came closer until I had no where to run, and grabbed my arm before I could react.

"Just give me one more chance." He looked into my eyes. "I made a mistake. I drank too much. I was depressed."

The scent of alcohol from his lips was unmistakable. It was a smell I knew too well after these past months.

Ripping my arm away, I glared. "Right, because you lost your job, you're deep in loan, and we had a fight, so that gives you the right to sleep with your ex-wife?"

Jaws tightening, he grabbed my shoulders. "Rory, I know you love me. And I love you. Let's not do this. Let's not fight. Just come home with me."

"You're delusional." I jabbed at the door. "Get the hell out." This was it. I was no longer going to stand his crap. Years of memories flashed before my eyes, but I didn't care. My anger, at that moment, took over.

His body shifted while his eyes hardened. After our stare down, he backed away. "You'll regret this."

With that, he stomped out the door.

►It's about time◄**********  
**

Paris was right. My life was pathetic. Who knew that my first, sweet love would turn into hell after so many years invested into our relationship? We met while we were in high school, instantly connecting. We were cute, adorable, the couple you saw on the bus, holding hands. The couple every teenager wanted to be.

Fast forward twelve years, after many tribulations, we sat at home, not even caring about the others' day. He lost his job, and sank into depression, coming home drunk night after night. While I tried foolishly to rekindle what was long lost, just because I couldn't bare losing all those years of my youth. Like that, I held on for two years. It seemed like I no longer smiled. Sure, I faked my smiles when I saw my mom or friends. But, I had no real friends anymore, except Paris. All my friends, even my childhood friend, Lane, had been telling me to get rid of Dean for years. But, I was too determined, too proud, to let go. I wanted to prove to everyone that we were in love, that we could make it. In the end, I was alone and miserable. I was just a thirty year old woman, in sweats, who her boyfriend cheated on.

►It's about time◄

"When's she leaving?" Doyle whispered to Paris, although loud enough for me to hear, sitting two feet away.

Pretending to be oblivious, I stared down at my food.

"Stop it." Paris hissed back.

"Rory." She turned to me.

"Hm?"

"Now, don't be mad, but I did what any good friend would do. After all, I'd like to think I'm a great friend, after all those times you were there for me." She looked at me with those droopy, puppy dog, Paris Gellar eyes. If a puppy dog somehow looked like it could kill, then it would be the expression Paris mastered. "But, I got you a date tonight. So you better shower up. You can even wear that blue dress I got last week. Just don't stain it or you'll be single for life because I'll never let you see the light of day." She was dead serious. You would not want to challenge those eyes.

"What?" I blinked.

She got up and dragged me out of my seat.

"I'm not finished." I tried to place the fork in my hand on the table without it falling to the ground while she tugged me towards the bathroom.

"I'm sure those donuts will keep you full. Come on, I'll strip you myself if I have to." She shoved me into the bathroom and closed the door.

►It's about time◄

"Can I at least see that guy's profile?" I stepped out of the bathroom, feeling self-conscious in the dress I eventually settled on. I hadn't dressed up in ages. What Dean and I, nowadays, considered to be a fancy date was Chinese take out and Coke cans in front of the TV.

"Okay, but don't drool." Paris went into the living room and came back with her laptop in her arms. She set it down on the bed and hopped on. I joined suite.

After a few clicks, a profile stared back at me.

**Name: Logan Huntzberger**

**Age: 32**

**Hobby: Jogging, skydiving, reading**

**Interested in: Women**

**Job: Online magazine editor**

Then, she scrolled the cursor upward. "I saved the best for last."

The page stopped, and an adorable smile met my eyes. A guy looking no older than twenty five was on the page, grinning from ear to ear. His blonde hair was caught flying in the wind. My gaze was held by those puppy dog, brown eyes. Now, these ones were sweet, deep, and maybe a tad wild. Something about this guy made my heart skip. Ripping my stare away from those eyes, I took in his attire. Noticing his black harness and the sky behind the open door, I realized he was ready to jump out of a moving plane.

"Ha-ha, Paris. A sky-diver?"

"He's an online magazine editor, not a sky-diver." She threw a matter-of-fact look.

"Either way, this is crazy." I crossed my arms. "I'm not going."

"Yes, you are." Paris stood and pulled me up with her. "In fact, you're getting out the door right now."

"What?" I pouted. "You can't kick me out. I'm your best friend. Who stayed with you after you had a fight with Doyle, while you were dead drunk, and held your hair while you puked into the toilet at a gay pub? Who-"

"Your pretty mouth doesn't work on me." She cupped my mouth so all words were stuffed into my stomach. "Get out now. The cab's waiting. I already gave the driver the address." With freakishly strong arms, she pushed me into the living room.

I flung my arms around in the direction of my purse until she grabbed it and handed it to me.

Seconds later, I was out the door, which once again slammed behind me.

►It's about time◄

"You're Ms. Rory Gilmore?" The driver turned back to look at me after I got into the only cab waiting outside Paris and Doyle's apartment. The neighborhood was just as shady as the one we lived together in back at Yale. She had a talent for picking out living quarters.

"Yes."

"And you're going to Le Chatelier?"

"Um, sure."

"Okay." He eyed me dubiously before turning back.

The car started moving as I stared out into the New York traffic.

This was ridiculous. I was now officially one of those single, 30 year old losers who needed their best friend to find them a date online.

►It's about time◄

I walked into the beyond fancy restaurant with golden chandeliers and wooden railings that led up to the second floor where a hostess was waiting. I climbed the stairs while focusing on not tripping in heels. I couldn't remember the last time I wore them. Though Dean was much taller, after many years together, I lost interest in dressing up. Especially when I would barely get an eye off the TV when I did dress up and walked by him to ask how I looked. Then, after some pouting and nagging, I would get a barely intelligible grunt of "you look good".

At the thought of Dean, anger pulsed in my chest and I ended up half-stomping to the entrance.

"Reservations?" asked the hostess with a heavy British accent, matched with heavy eyeliners.

"I think so." Trying to take glances into the restaurant, I tip toed slightly. I had no idea what I was looking for. The sky-diving hunk of an eye-candy, perhaps. "My name's Rory Gilmore and I'm suppose to meet a guy here. Logan something."

She flipped around the large book on the podium. "Right here, Rory Gilmore and Logan Huntzberger?"

"That's the one. Something burger." I nodded. My thoughts were distracted by the color of the girl's hair. It looked like Lindsay's. I bet Dean would sleep with her.

"Follow me this way." She smiled.

I was glad to notice the slight crook in her front teeth. Clearly, I was now not only pathetic, but also bitter. I just needed a dozen cats and I would fit right in with my next door neighbor.

Observing the expensive decor of the place while we passed by tables, I wondered who picked this restaurant.

"Here we are." She waved to a table.

"Thanks."

"Anything to drink while you wait?"

"Champagne, please." That seemed like a good choice. Better than Coke from a can.

"I'll be right back." She threw another smile.

Okay, she was quite pretty and seemed nice. Suddenly, I felt guilty about my silent jabs at her earlier.

Fidgeting with the menu, I was getting increasingly nervous. What if he doesn't show? It was stupid to let Paris force me into this. I should have resisted harder. Remembering the guy's eyes, a knot formed in my stomach. He was adventurous, gorgeous and a magazine editor. Way out of my league. What was I doing here?

►It's about time◄

"Hi, nice to meet you." A voice smooth as brandy stunned me, causing my head to snap up.

A pair of caramel eyes met mine. For a second, I was at a loss for words. "Uh, hi."

The gorgeous creature extended a hand. I stared before finally accepting his handshake.

"I assume you're Rory?"

"Yes, and you must be Logan." I came to my senses and tried to stand up, only to soon regret it. Being so close, his cologne flushed my nostrils. The scent made me drowsy.

"Yes, I am." He smiled. "Shall we?"

"Hm?" The sound came out my mouth.

His eyes crinkled as he gestured to the table. "Have dinner."

"Oh, right, yes. Of course." I stuttered as I sat back down. Wow. After countless years with the same person, I had, indeed, lost my ability to carry on a conversation with someone attractive. Compared to Dean, this guy was as clean cut and proper as the president on a campaign poster.

I looked across the table. He was looking at his menu, his short blonde hair mussed on his head. I noticed how no hair fell into his eyes.

Replaying his breath-stopping grin, I smiled down at my menu. This could be an interesting night.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, please leave a review :)**

For those of you who read my other story "Leap of Faith" (which I shall abbrev to LoF for short, I know it doesn't sound great), let me explain.

I wanted to do a little writing exercise, write 1 chapter in 1 hour, because when I write chapters for LoF, I put a lot of time into them. I wanted to free my mind, and write whatever came to me, without really editing, for 1 hour. I'm hoping over time I can improve the quality and content of the writing I can get done in a shorter period of time. I wasn't even going to post the story.

So, I put the timer on and began to type with no idea what I was going to write about. This story just came out. I decided to share this, in case, it appeals to anyone, since it's a Rogan fic after all. I'll only be updating this whenever I feel it's time for my brain to take a break as I'll be back to writing LoF. When I finish it, I can focus on this story.

I hope you enjoy my little experiment.

As always, feedback is much appreciated! Thank you! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls


	2. Chapter 2

►Chapter Two◄

"After two years at Yale, I was forced to pack my bags and head for London. Didn't return 'till five years later." He gave a smirk, clearly not fond of the memory.

"Wait, you went to Yale?" I looked into his eyes, my heart clenching slightly. They made me light-headed, which was a problem I hadn't resolved in the past hour. At least the good news was I hadn't been thinking about Dean for a while.

"Yeah, was even in the newspaper committee." His face was smug. "Though I wasn't there much."

This guy was coming off as a tad arrogant. However, the warmth in his eyes made me feel there was more to him than his charming front. _Yeah right_, I bet every girl he's brought home thought the same way. A tiny voice sneaked into my thoughts, which I quickly brushed away.

"Why? You know someone there?"

"Actually, I went there too."

His brows shot up. "I'm surprised. I didn't think you were the type."

Okay, now he was really pushing it. I frowned. "Right, 'cause you know so much about me."

"Woah, I didn't mean to offend."

My frown only deepened at the heavy chuckle that came my way.

"Truthfully, I only know as much as what's on your profile." The corners of his lips pulled upward until a faint dimple touched his cheek.

Crap, my profile? Of course I had to have a profile. Paris...

"Uh." I looked down at my plate. "My friend made it for me. I don't actually know about it." Picking up the fork, I targeted the last bit of food.

"We're in similar situations then. I had to join because I lost a bet."

Right, because he was obviously way too good for online dating. "Uh huh." I focused on chewing, examining him from across the table. I wondered how many women dropped their panties at his command. Men like him were all the same, I reminded myself. Incredibly good-looking, disgusting, cheating pigs. Do not get fooled by those eyes.

"You should be flattered though." His smile grew wider. "I mean, I gotta tell you. There were a bunch of messages coming through, but I only responded to yours." He leaned in to catch my eyes. "That profile pic was just too much."

"What pic?" My voice was panicked.

"You can find out when you get home." He tackled his food with a grin.

My face burned up to a hundred degrees. I tried to remember if Paris had any questionable pictures of me. She had always been unpredictable. Who knew if she had secret hobbies of stalking me with a camera. I wouldn't be surprised.

"Wow." He said as the server cleared our plates. "To think we might have met sooner if I wasn't sent off to London." His eyes twinkled into mine. "I now have one more reason to resent my father."

I couldn't help the smile spreading on my face.

The waitress arrived with a plate of dessert, laying it in front of me. "Here's your chocolate caramel toffee pudding."

"Thanks."

Logan observed my plate of empty calories."You're certainly more than what meets the eye."

"You should see me with my many flavored pop-tarts in the morning."

"It would be my pleasure." He smirked, picking up his drink. "So, tell me something about yourself. You don't want my judgement to be solely based on that profile your friend made up, do you?"

An empty chuckle came out my mouth while I avoided his gaze. "I wouldn't want to bore you with my uninteresting life."

"A beautiful girl like you must have interesting stories to tell. How are you even single?"

My heart flipped. Beautiful? I guess I'd heard that a few times, before Dean and I moved in together and he tensed at every guy who as much as looked my way. I swallowed my nerves. "I sort of just came out of a relationship, actually."

He was silent for a second. "I'm sorry about that. But, he must be really dumb to screw things up with you."

A small smile touched my lips. "Thanks." Looking into his eyes, I saw a glint of care, which made me feel safe about sharing my feelings. The bitter cells of my subconscious were quiet at that moment, allowing the warmth in my heart to build for this stranger.

As if reading my mind, he gave an encouraging smile. "You can talk about it if you want. I'm all ears."

I bit my bottom lip. "We met in high school and were together for about three years. We reconnected five years ago and moved in together. It's pretty complicated."

"That's a long time to be with someone."

"I'm guessing you haven't really had long term relationships?"

"You got me there." He shook his head. "I just never really met anyone who I wanted to spend everyday with."

"Hm, someone you want to spend everyday with..." I pondered the sentence. Was that the reason I stayed with Dean for so long? Initially, yes. But, what about later on? I couldn't be sure of an answer.

"I leave it all up to fate." He shrugged. "It just is or isn't."

Nodding, I carefully dug at the chocolate pudding in front of me. Thinking about my relationship with Dean, I realized I stayed because I was used to him. I became attached. As we both grew, it seemed like we were suppose to grow together. I tried so hard to help him. To help us. I never really saw that, sometimes, a relationship can't be helped. It just is or isn't. In our case, we weren't made to last.

Letting out a sigh, I looked up. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"I didn't see that until now." I paused. "He cheated on me with his ex-wife. I still hate him for it, but at least I see that we just weren't meant to be, I guess."

"What an asshole." His jaws clenched. "Don't let me meet this guy."

For the first time that night, I saw emotions beyond his easy charm.

My lips curled as I shook my head slightly. "You know, you're more than what meets the eye too."

►It's about time◄

After we finished dinner, we talked some more about our lives. It was easier to talk to him, after the huge weight in my chest was somewhat lifted. Though my phone vibrated in my purse twice towards the end of the night, knowing it must be Dean, I let it go to voice mail. I didn't want anything to interrupt our conversation. But, no matter how hard I tried, my mood darkened with each call.

Despite everything, I focused hard on the gorgeous man across from me. On his soft eyes and infectious smile. Paris was right. I needed to get out there and open my eyes. For all I knew, he could be a great guy for me. I couldn't let Dean get to me. But ex, or no ex, it didn't change the fact that this guy never had a real girlfriend. He didn't do relationships and wasn't looking for anything serious. The thought should have deterred me. Think disgusting, non-committal pigs. Instead, my heart was met with relief. I wasn't ready for anything serious. I feared even the thought of anything long term. I didn't want to commit or even think about what could be. I just wanted to see what was out there.

It just is or isn't.

At the end of the night, we collected our jackets at the door and stood facing each other. As I wrapped my scarf around my neck, Logan asked me if I would like to hang out at his place. I looked into those caramel eyes, saw them shine into mine, and knew my answer.

Giving him a smile, I nodded.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

I was in a writing mood today, but didn't have much time. So, I worked on this. :) Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! For me, this is very interesting and different from LoF, so I enjoy writing it and sharing it with everyone.


	3. Chapter 3

►Chapter Three◄

Looking around the gigantic living room, I was stunned. A floor length window displayed a breath-taking view of Manhattan. Lights of yellow and white twinkled like stars in the distance underneath a layer of autumn fog. It felt like a dream. A dream where I was a millionaire. Considering the location of this penthouse, the mortgage must be something I couldn't pay off even in a thousand years.

My gaze landed on the man a few feet away, preparing drinks at the mini-bar at the end of the room.

"Like what you see?" He smiled.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is freaking huge and sumptuous."

"Most people go for impressive and magnificent, but I'll accept that too."

"But-" I frowned. "Your profile said you're an online magazine editor."

"I am."

"Well, it must be hell of a magazine for you to afford this." I waved at the marble mantle above the fireplace.

He snickered and sauntered toward me with drinks in his hands. "It's a family thing."

Watching him place the glasses on the coffee table, I asked. "A family thing?"

"Uh huh." He sat down on the leather sofa and patted the seat beside him.

"Your family owns a magazine?" I sat down, my thighs a few inches from his. "Which one?"

He tilted his head, giving me the look I'd seen numerous times tonight.

"Logan Huntzberger…" I mumbled the name. The surname did sound familiar.

His lips twisted, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"You're _the_ Huntzberger?"

"Woah, don't idolize me." He held out his palms, suppressing a grin. "I'm just a really good-looking guy who also happens to be rich."

Whatever decent qualities I'd a glimpse of at dinner was gone, replaced by his full egotism. I scorned. "You're disgusting. I hope you know that."

In mock surprise, his head twitched back. "No. I don't believe I've heard that before, although I have been called variations of deities on certain occasions."

Speechless, I shook my head while reaching for a martini. First Dean. Now, this arrogant piece of work. I really had incredible luck with men.

"You don't look too happy."

In between sips, I turned to see his smirk. "Really? It shows?"

He chuckled, taking a gulp of his scotch. "I don't see why you're so worked up."

"It's just-" I frowned. "You're cocky."

"And you're rude." He stated. "Throwing these insults at me when we've only met for a couple hours."

"You objectify women and act like you're some kind of prize."

He nodded with a grin. "I guess it's safe to say that you don't like me."

"See, it's about you again."

Letting out a laugh, he leaned into my face. "You just won't admit that you're attracted to me."

The scent of his breath made my heart stop, but there was no way in hell I was letting it show. "Right." I nudged him away. "Because every woman in the world must be attracted to you."

"No, not everyone." He cocked an eyebrow. "But, you are."

"Ugh." I turned away, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. "You're impossible."

To my surprise, his hand grabbed mine. "Come on, lemme give you a tour." He stood up. "Maybe it'll change your opinion."

Trying hard to appear unaffected by the warmth of his skin on mine, I got up beside him.

►It's about time◄

Leading me across the room, we turned the corner, arriving at a black and white themed kitchen.

"This is where I'll make you breakfast in the morning." He winked at me. "See, I'm a gentleman."

"I'm just gonna ignore you." Letting go of his hand, I roamed around, observing the sparkling counters.

"Sure, we don't need to talk for what I've planned anyway."

God, I can't stand this guy. Yet, I was still here. Maybe just to prove to Dean that I could last through a date with another man. Gritting my teeth at the thought of him, I continued walking down the kitchen. I wasn't going to let him ruin my mood.

At the end of the counters, I stopped in front of a full-sized suit of armor.

"Huh…this is nice…" I tilted my head. "And kinda creepy."

"You don't like Henry?" I felt Logan come up behind me.

"Oh no, no. It's not that I don't like Henry. I mean, he's obviously…lovely." I gestured to his tin chest. "It's just that he's a…well, metal suit of armor with red shoulder pads standing by your refrigerator."

"I've had him since I was eighteen when I first moved out." He said. "Even towed him to London."

"He's well traveled." I turned around. My heart stirred when I saw he was so close.

With a curl of his lips, he nodded without a word.

My heartbeat quickened while I stared. I felt him grab my waist and pull me in. Before I knew it, my body was pressed to his chest, my face inches from his.

He whispered. "Did I tell you you're beautiful?"

"Do you use that on everyone?"

His lips spread further. "Nope." He shook his head.

Before I could retort, he leaned down and kissed me. Just like that. It was too easy.

Yet, my eyes closed and my lips moved without my consent. I kissed him back with a ball of fire forming in my stomach. His lips tasted like drops of mint and scotch, burning against mine. I might have enjoyed it. Just a tad.

Slowly breaking apart, I glanced at Henry before giving Logan a smirk of my own. "Does he always get VIP seating like this?"

A grin split his face. "Nope, first time."

My eyebrow rose. Yeah right, I was sure he had numerous play dates in this kitchen.

A soft, deep chuckle reached my ears. "I promise." His hand found mine once more. "Come on, there's another room I wanna show you."

Biting on my lip to contain my smile, I followed him down the hall.

Despite his huge ego, there was something about him that made me feel comfortable. Like we've known each other for years. This guy was really something.

But, it's cool, I told myself. I'm in control.

After thirty years, I was getting pretty good at lying to myself.

►It's about time◄

He opened the door, revealing the dimly lit master bedroom with a king-sized bed, sitting between dark bedside tables.

Shaking my head, I turned to him. "_This_ is the room you wanted to show me?" I snatched my hand away. "Real subtle."

He shrugged with a grin. "I try."

Putting his hands on my shoulders, he gently pushed me toward the bed.

"You'd think you could come up with better tricks than this."

"Nah." He nudged my shoulders so I sat down on the edge. Flopping down beside me, his expression feigned innocence. "I swear I don't usually do this."

I snorted. "Yeah, and I'm actually Batman."

"I mean, I usually just wait here for them to change into something footsie." He eyed my dress, the shadows from his smirk on display.

"Well-" I spread my arms. "This is it from me."

His lips curved as he leaned in. "I like it."

Smiling, my eyes closed and my lips tasted his. He kissed me softly, his fingers brushing into the back of my hair and cradling my neck. Chills went through me like never before. I thought back to my first kiss with Dean. It was nothing like this. My nerve-endings exploded into tiny sparks, sizzling in my brain. Compared to this, my kisses with Dean could have been leisure strolls in the park.

Determined to push the thoughts of my cheating ex aside, my hands went to his arms, and traveled up to his shoulders, eventually wrapping my arms around his neck. Under my touch, our kiss deepened until we were devouring each other. His hands moved to my waist, grazing the thin fabric of my dress, and then up to the rim of my bra.

Oh god, what was happening? The sensible side of my brain suddenly woke, pulling the alarms in my head. _What the heck was I doing?_ I didn't even know him. Panic rose in my throat, just as Logan pulled my body closer.

"Logan..?" I croaked against his mouth.

"Hm?" He kissed me hard as his chest pressed down, making me fall back against his arms.

My head landed on the soft bedding. Despite the alarms in my head, my lips were creatures of their own, enveloping his in urgency. But, the thoughts swerving in my brain didn't leave me alone. "Um-" I fumbled in between our kisses. "What- are we- doing?"

"Mm… kissing."

As our bodies grinded against each other, the hem of my dress rose to my thighs.

"I know- that-" My fingers gripped his biceps, feeling the muscles flex underneath. "I just-"

"Just what?" His mouth found my neck.

"I don't know-" I panted. "-about this." His wet tongue traveled along my skin, sending shivers through me.

"Mmm." He breathed in my scent, his hand feeling my thighs.

Suppressing a groan, I mumbled. "Should we- really do this?"

His head rose and hovered above mine. Gently, he whispered. "Do you want me to stop?"

Seeing his eyes, dark with lust, my stomach twitched. Before I could think, I grabbed the sides of his face and gave him a deep, long kiss.

"Mmm…" The throaty sound cradled my ears. "I'll take that as a no."

His deep voice consumed me once more. With our bodies close together, we scooted up the bed until my toes felt the quilt. My dress lifted further, exposing my waist, and his hand slipped in.

Gasping for air against his mouth, I rambled. "I just-" His palm was warm. "-have never done anything like this befor-."

"Mmmhm." He swallowed my words, his tongue twirling around mine.

Overloaded with sensations that conflicted severely with my thoughts, my head was spinning. Gripping onto his shirt, I yearned to feel his skin, and slid my palms underneath the fabric against his abs. His body twitched at the move as his teeth tucked at my bottom lip.

He groaned softly, trailing kisses along my jaw line.

"I mean, I've done _this_." I breathed. "Just not with someone I've met for three hours-"

"There's always a first."

"But, I don't want to seem like a harlot."

He gave a chuckle, releasing a huff of air on my neck. "I don't think you're a harlot."

"I'm sure _you_ don't. But, other people might."

His mouth took a break as he sighed. My heart sank, already missing his breaths.

A heave came out as he pushed himself up. With ragged breaths, he flipped onto the space beside me, onto his back.

Panting, my insides loosened at the absence of his touch. "I'm sorry…" I said. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

"Don't worry." He turned to me, his voice gentle. "Hot girls don't annoy me easily."

Holding his gaze, a blush stained my cheeks. I didn't know if it was possible, but he looked even more gorgeous in the shade, with the faint light from the lamp behind him.

With his head in his hand, he propped his elbow on the bed. "So, a harlot, huh?"

Cringing, I covered my face. "Oh god."

I heard Logan laugh and felt his finger touch the tip of my nose. The small gesture made my heart flip. I could have sworn it felt affectionate. Somehow.

►It's about time◄

That night, we ended up chatting for hours, lying side by side, staring at the ceiling. We told each other stories. About our past, our childhood, and our experiences. We didn't agree on much, and ended up bickering about the smallest details. We were so different. Yet, we listened intently, consumed by the other's presence.

When the first light of dawn broke through the blinds, we drifted off to sleep with my arm on his chest, and his head next to mine. Though our night was far from what we both expected, in a way, it was even more intimate.

Plus, he proved to be right about one thing. He made me breakfast in the morning. A piping hot cup of coffee that I watched him make, while giving instructions along the way so that it met my incredibly high standards. And some sausages and pancakes with eggs, sunny side up. Just how I told him I liked it.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

I love writing this story. It's so light and different from LoF. And the good news is, I finished planning the chapters, so I can focus on this after I finish LoF.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

►Chapter Four◄

It's been almost two weeks since my date with Logan. I haven't heard from him. Although I knew to not expect to, considering what I'd learned about his views on relationships and all, part of me was disappointed. The morning after our date, it was only after I left his apartment in high spirits that I realized we didn't exchange numbers, nor did he mention anything about seeing each other again.

Then, when Paris gave me the password for my online dating account, I had anxiously checked to see if Logan left any messages. But, the number on the little yellow envelope on the screen remained to be 0 for two whole days. On the third day, I saw a tiny number 1 on the envelope. I had clicked on it, with my heart flipping the tiniest bit, and saw that it was a message from a José reading "Webcam, si?"

After that, I told myself to not think about it. It was a blind date. I should be happy that I wasn't kidnapped into the back of a guy's van and drove off to god knows where. I even got a free dinner and breakfast out of it. What more could I ask for? Plus, I should be proud of myself for not sleeping with him. I didn't give in to his well-practiced advances and liquid, caramel eyes. Heck, I deserved a medal for that.

It didn't matter that we stayed up all night talking and I even shared the story where I peed my pants during my first roller coaster ride when I was seven. I mean, if this was me a decade ago, yeah, my ego would be bruised and I might be crying about the hurt of rejection. But, after thirty years of witnessing life's many disappointments? This was nothing.

Besides, my mind was pretty occupied the days after my date with Logan. I went to the apartment that Dean and I shared every afternoon from two to four to move out my things little by little. Those were the hours that were guaranteed to be Dean-free. After a week, most of my stuff was now in storage. They would probably stay there for another week or so until I found my own place.

►It's about time◄

Today marked the final day I would ever step foot into the building that I'd lived in for years again. It held too many memories – good and bad. After today, I might not even want to ever pass this street.

I walked down the hallway on the second floor, which I'd passed every day for five years. The sole of my boots had every fiber in the carpet memorized. Yet, to me, my surroundings felt strange. Perhaps it was because I knew this was no longer where I belonged.

Opening the door and stepping inside, a musky, sour smell hit me. Ugh. It smelled like alcohol and dirty laundry. I moved to the center of the room and observed the quiet place. Having stayed at Paris and Doyle's for two weeks, the apartment that I lived in with Dean was suddenly so foreign. The large amount of garbage piled up everywhere no doubt contributed to the distant feeling. Sprawled on the coffee table were unopened mails and pieces of paper. Walking over to hover above the table, I observed the rings of yellow wood and shiny polish peaking through the junk. Dean and I had picked it out at the furniture store. We had thought the color went well with the beige wallpapers in the living room. That was back when things were good between us. The thought formed a wave of nostalgia in my stomach, mixing with the bile at the thought of Dean and Lindsay's bodies pressed together.

Five years can change a person by so much. Or maybe it doesn't change a person, but brings out the worst in them - the bad that you failed to see during the honeymoon phase.

Sighing to myself, I turned my back to the table and walked away from it, towards the bedroom. There was no use dwelling on the memories now. For the first time, I was completely letting go of what Dean and I had. I wanted to be freed.

In the bedroom, I pulled out the last box of my belongings. It wasn't much. Just some stray clothes, CDs, and products found in the back of the closet and drawers. Ready to get out of there, I carried the box in my arms and headed for the front door.

My footsteps froze when the front door opened. Dean walked in and his eyes found mine.

A huge chunk of my stomach seemed to be pulled out as I stood there, staring at him. Even from a few feet away, his tall frame caved me in. His eyes were dark, but softer than it usually was. He looked lost and unsure of what to do. Seeing him like that, I felt pity towards the man I had known since my high school days.

He stepped closer, saying my name. "Rory…"

Avoiding his eyes, I said. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Moving towards the door that was behind him, I added. "It doesn't matter because I was just leaving."

He grabbed my upper arm when I tried to walk by. "No, Rory. Please, I want to talk."

A sigh came out as I shook my head. With my eyes focused on the door, I said. "I have nothing to talk to you about." Hearing how cold my voice was, I felt like I didn't even know myself. In our numerous fights, I had never been this calm.

His voice was weak as he said. "I tried to leave you alone like you told me to. I really did."

Hearing his helpless tone, my heart ached.

"Can we please just sit down and talk? I miss you so much. I have so much to tell you."

The sinking feeling in my stomach let me know it was too late. After so many years, I finally had enough. I didn't want anything more to do with him. For my sake, I wanted to cut ties completely.

I tried to say my next words as gently as I could. "Dean, I can't be the one you talk to about your troubles anymore. We're over. Just let me go."

My chest rose and fell as we stood there for several minutes in silence. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, but I continued to stare at the door, praying he would release my arm.

When I was almost ready to tear his hand away and make a run for it, Dean's fingers slowly unclenched and, before long, I didn't feel them on me anymore.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I made a quick exit.

►It's about time◄

Back to the note on life's many disappointments, being a journalist certainly wasn't as fancy as I'd imagined when I graduated Yale. But, that's just life. Hot and heavy romances crash, dream jobs become constant nightmares of deadlines and rewrites, and, before you know it, you're thirty and alone in a library on a Friday night.

I was sitting in a cubicle, working on the article that was due in a few days when the sound of a ping came from my laptop. Glancing around me, only to see wooden dividers, I touched the mouse pad so I could see the screen.

You have 1 new message.

Oh goody, another forty year old asking for frisky time in front of a webcam. Rolling my eyes, I clicked on the pop up. A window opened, bringing me to the colorful online dating site. On the large banner at the top, pink hearts and red ink scribbles spelled out the website name.

It's About Time. com

As in it's about time that you met a cocky stranger, almost got tricked into having a one night stand, and then spent the next two days wondering why the hell he never contacted you afterwards.

Pushing my bitterness aside, I led my mouse to click on the yellow envelope on the top right corner. The page refreshed and I was shocked to see a small, square icon with Logan's face on it, beside a short message. My heart instantly thumped louder at the sight. _Traitor._

I read the sentence.

**Logan: Hey, how's it going? ;-)**

Hm. Four words and a smiley face. Five, if you count the apostrophe s.

How dare he write this after two weeks? Who does he think he is? Did he think I was a booty call?! Suddenly angry, my fingers started hitting the keys on my laptop as I sent a reply.

**Rory: Great. My hair's gone gray, and I think I see a liver spot appearing on the back of my hand as I type.**

Fidgeting with the collar of my shirt, I read over my message. Groaning inwardly, I wished I could take back my words. Bitterness was dripping right out of them.

After several seconds, a new message appeared below mine.

**Logan: Aw, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were waiting around for my message. :-)**

_Arrogant asshole._ Clenching my fists, fume came out of my ears.

**Rory: I see you haven't sought help for your narcissistic personality disorder. Not everyone is pining after you. I have better things to do.**

**Logan: I've said it once, and I'll say it again. Not everyone. But, **_**you are**_**.**

Gritting my teeth, I opened a web browser and searched for what I had in mind as a reply. When I found it, I copied and pasted it into the message box.

**Rory: ****Symptoms of NPD defined by the**** DSM-IV-TR**** is not limited to but ****includes e****xpecting constant ****admiration and envy ****from others.**

I drummed my fingers against the table while I waited for his message. After a while, it came.

**Logan: Rudeness (n.) - An offensive lack of manners, whether of physical or verbal acts, that ignores accepted refinements of civilized societies. **

Sucking in a mouthful of air, I forced on a dry smile, as if he could see, and typed.

**Rory: What did you want, Logan?**

**Logan: Ah, that's better, but you could lighten your tone a bit with a smiley face. Like this - I was thinking maybe we can grab a coffee sometime? :-)**

**Rory: I'm aware of how smiley faces work. But, it's an act of friendliness that some people don't deserve. And why the sudden interest in coffee? From what I've seen, you weren't too familiar with making it the right way.**

**Logan: Now that you remind me, I'm worried about your unhealthy particularity with your source of caffeine. Maybe we should get drinks instead?**

Biting down on my lip, I finally took a moment to think about his offer. Should I really see him again? I hated to admit it, but I was physically attracted to him. Then again, probably lots of women were. However, he was definitely not the relationship type.

But, I wasn't looking to be in a relationship after what happened with Dean, my conscious reminded me. I suppose I might as well loosen up and have a good time. Mulling over my response for only one more second, I answered.

**Rory: Coffee's fine. I wouldn't trust you with alcohol until you've sought professional help.**

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

I had a bit of free time today and this chapter just came out. I won't be writing LoF until the weekend because the next chapter is kinda depressing, and I don't wanna be depressed for the Halloween parties coming up :P

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think!

Thanks for all your reviews. I'm so glad that you're liking the story so far.

Happy (early) Halloween!


	5. Chapter 5

►Chapter Five◄

"Rory Gilmore, I'm telling you." Paris grabbed the hem of my skirt. "_This_ isn't going to get you anywhere."

My brows furrowed as I looked down at the black, smooth fabric reaching my knees. "What's wrong with this one now?"

For the past hour, she had been nitpicking about my outfit for my date with Logan. I kept telling her that it's not even considered a date since he clearly wasn't interested in a relationship. But, of course, nothing stopped Paris.

"How old are you?" She glared at me with her hands on her hips.

I sighed as I slumped down onto her bed. "Why does that matter?"

She was stalking to the closet like a tornado through an unfortunate village. "Unless you're sixty or obese, you have no excuse to wear that plain knitted sweater and old lady skirt over black tights on a date with a millionaire."

"He's not a millionaire." I rolled my eyes. "And I got this recently. It's classy and cute. Black skirts are timeless and they go with anything."

"Anything?!" She spun around, her eyes looking to kill. "Anything is not something you wear on a date. Especially when he's a handsome, rich man with fabulous genes that can do wonders for your next generation."

"Oh god. Not this again." My head tilted back as I stared at the ceiling.

I heard Paris' footsteps harass the floor until she sat down beside me. "We're not getting any younger, Rory. You need to consider your reproductive tract. Those poor eggs are popping one by one. Soon, you won't have any good ones left."

My head drooped. "Paris, can we please not talk about this?"

"You don't understand the severity of the issue! I told you endless times to come with me to the fertility clinic to freeze those precious eggs of yours." Her voice was getting more urgent by the second. This was one of her many favorite ways to torture me to death. "You have good genes, Rory. You eat like a starved Viking without gaining a pound, and you can memorize historical details with a bat of an eye. It would be a crime to not pass them on."

"Paris, thank you for the compliments, but I still have plenty of time to pass on my genes." I tried to reassure her since she looked like she might explode out of anxiety over my aging ova.

"Numerous scientific papers have shown that the risks of defects occurring in female reproduction proportionally increases with age past 35."

Medical school had, no doubt, gone to her head. Now, it was a miracle if she didn't start every third sentence with something about papers.

She added. "You're almost there."

"I'm _not _almost there." I frowned, my voice a tad defensive. "I'm five years away. That's half a decade. A lifetime to a guinea pig."

"Don't fret, sister." She scooted closer. "Lucky for you, Doyle and I have got embryos frozen at the best clinic in New York." She said it like they were bell peppers she purchased at the local market. "Since we're going to try right after we get married, we won't need them anymore." She grabbed my hands and looked me in the eyes. "You are definitely welcome to use them."

"Ew!" I shoved her hands away.

"Research has shown that the quality of the offspring is not significantly different than those conceived naturally."

"What?" I gaped at the serious expression on her face. "Paris, I don't want you and Doyle's frozen embryo anywhere near my uterus." My face flamed at the sentence that came out of my mouth. Now that was a phrase I thought I'd never say.

"Don't worry, Doyle's genes for height are most likely recessive since his siblings are all-"

"Oh my gosh!" I cut her off and raised my watch. "Look at the time. I've got to go or I'll be late."

"I thought it's at five?"

"Oh no, no. It's at four-thirty." I gave a quick smile with sweat forming on my forehead. "I've gotta go. Don't wanna keep Mr. Millionaire waiting."

"Oh, okay then. Oh wait!" Her body snapped up.

She ran to the living room, leaving me to wonder what she was up to now.

I heard drawers open and shut before she came back with my purse. She passed it to me. "Don't forget your purse."

"Um, thanks." I took it.

The date wasn't until five. But sitting in a café alone was a million times better than sitting with Paris and listening to her discuss the aspects of her frozen embryo in my body. Therefore, I grabbed a book from my suitcase along with my jacket and scarf, and headed out.

►It's about time◄

When I arrived at the café just down the street, it was only four twenty. Ordering a caramel latte, and then finding a table for two in the corner of the room, I dug out my book and started reading.

Soon, I was immersed in Heathcliff's life in Wuthering Heights, a moorland farmhouse far away from modern day New York. Flipping page after page, time was no longer an issue on my mind. I had traveled back to the 1800s.

"Emily Brontë. Didn't peg you as the classic novel type of girl." The smooth voice disrupted my time travel.

My head snapped up to meet Logan's eyes, which brought me back to the 21st century. He had on a dark grey jacket over a white linen shirt. His hair was moist on the tips, likely from the fog outside. I confess he looked even better than I had remembered.

Licking my lips, which somehow dried at the sight of him, I said. "Hey." I checked my watch and saw that it was five-thirty. I frowned as he sat down across from me. "You're late."

He gave me a smile, his eyes shimmering under the bulb above us. "Sorry, I had some business to take care of."

My frown only deepened. "Did you at least message me to let me know?" I pulled out my phone from my purse and checked the screen. No messages from the website were on display.

"No, I didn't know it would take this long." He shrugged and flipped open the menu.

Argh, this guy. "Do you always let the girl wait for half an hour without as much as a sincere apology?"

He looked up from the menu, a smirk on the edge of his lips. "I'm sincerely sorry. It won't happen again." He flashed a big, closed-mouth smile and nodded at the book in front of me. "Besides, you looked pretty occupied."

Shaking my head, I tucked the book into my purse. "Forget about it, let's just order something." Under my breath, I vowed to never go out with this guy again.

He reached over and touched my arm, the coolness from his fingertips making my hair stand up. I held his gaze.

"I'll treat you to whatever you want to prove my sincerity." He was clearly trying to keep a smile at bay. "Please forgive me?" He tilted his head to a side, his eyes round and shiny while his lips donned a sad curve.

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed the menu from him. "You'll be sorry."

His smirk was now on full display. "Had a light lunch?"

"Nope, had a ton." I looked down at the menu. "But, that has never stopped me before."

►It's about time◄

"You're kidding me." He shook his head with pursed lips. "How can you enjoy such a broad variety of genres?"

"Excuse me for being open-minded to things."

We had been debating about our different tastes in movies when it came to classic love stories for the past hour. Mostly, how he didn't think they depicted real life and, therefore, shouldn't be watched, while I thought he was a stone-hearted pessimist when it came to love and relationships.

"You read classic Gothic novels-" He points to my purse containing _Wuthering Heights_. "-and yet talk to me about content-less, cheesy movies like _Pretty Woman_ like its the bible."

"Books and movies are different." I clenched my purse beside me in response."And, no, I wouldn't go as far as calling _Pretty Woman_ the bible. But, movies like _Casablanca_ are a completely different story."

"Don't even get me started on _Casablanca_." He waved a hand with a smirk.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "Have you even watched it?"

"No." He shrugged. "And I'm not planning to."

Shaking my head profusely, I said with a bit more force than I meant to. "It's one of my mom and I's favorite movies. Do not speak ill of it if you haven't even seen it."

His eyebrows shot up. "Woah, sorry." A grin split his face as he leaned towards me. "Maybe, for you, I'll give it a try."

His sudden closeness made my cheeks flush. Taking in the dizzying scent of his cologne, I looked away. "Hey, don't do me any favors." The corners of my lips couldn't help but lift. "It's your loss, missing out on one of the best romantic films ever made."

Logan chuckled as a ringtone filled the air. My head turned to the sound.

He reached into his pants pocket and held up a finger towards me. "Sorry, one second."

I nodded and focused on my coffee.

"Hello?" He held the phone up. "Yes, Cindy! Of course, I remember you."

I almost choked. Did this guy seriously have numerous women on standby?

His eyes darted to mine as he smiled faintly. I didn't know if it was for me or the phone conversation, but gave a dry smile back.

Checking his watch, he nodded. "Mmhm, yup. Tomorrow works." He observed the table. "Okay, I'll see you then."

Clicking off his phone, he put it away while looking at me. "So, where were we?"

"Got a date tomorrow?" The question came out without filtering through my brain.

He looked taken aback, though keeping a smile. His eyes bored into mine as if deep in thought. Finally, he said. "In fact, yes."

"Hm." My mouth twitched. "You're shameless in your womanizing ways."

He smirked. "I'm single, so I don't see why I should be ashamed of having a date."

Frowning, I said. "Well, I thought that's what we're doing here. So, it's rude to be picking up another date right in front of your current date. And you should know about rudeness, since you took the time to define it last night."

"Touché." He pursed his lips and nodded. "But, we never specified that this was a date."

"Right. Right." I scoffed, my head nearly exploding from irritation. I grabbed my purse and turned to him. "Because the fact that we met on a _dating_ website could make it hard to interpret the nature of this outing."

Fed up with him, I stood up to leave. I wasn't going to be one of his many playmates. I had a lot more self-respect than that, no matter how good-looking he was. When I brushed past him, his hand caught my arm, making me turn around. His hold was firm, but gentle.

I glared at him while he looked down briefly and sighed. "Look, I think you're a great catch. But, the truth is, I also know that you're looking for something serious." His solemnness caught me off guard. He shook his head. "And I'm not it. I'm not going to pretend I am."

Staring at him and not believing how he thinks he knows me so well, my mind was imploding with expletives I wanted to scream out. Eventually calming down a tad, I said with as much ease as I could muster. "Thanks for letting me know. I'll be out of your hair in an instant if you could just release my arm."

At my words, he quickly loosened his grip as if he was afraid I was hurting. Looking at him for another second, I turned to leave.

"Rory. Wait." His voice stopped me in mid-stride.

I heard the chair squeak as he stood up. I could feel his warmth behind me, and his breaths on my neck. My legs started weakening at the sensation pulsing through. Damn him and his effect on my body.

Carefully, I turned to face him. "What?"

Locking my eyes with his, he said. "I really want to get to know you better. We could be great friends."

"Friends?" I asked, thinking I might have heard him wrong.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "I'm not gonna lie. I think you're smoking hot-" His mouth spread further into a full grin. "-but I also think you're damn interesting. Sleeping with you would just ruin my chances of seeing you more. So, the only way to do that is if we stay just friends."

I cocked an eyebrow. "So, you're admitting that women you've slept with and never called back think of you as a disgusting pig, and, therefore, never see you again."

He gave a deep chuckle and bowed his head. Raising an eyebrow at me, he said. "Well, I definitely think you would."

Seeing his knowing smirk, my expression softened.

"So, you wanna sit down and chat some more, friend?" He pulled out the chair beside him and gestured with a tentative smile.

"Not so fast." I held out a finger. There was no way he was getting his way so easily. "I'll think about it. Maybe, I'll send you a message when I have an answer. Or maybe not." I shrugged and was turning once again to leave.

Before I could, he placed a hand on my shoulder. "At least let me drive you home, then."

I pursed my lips, as if thinking over his proposition, while the amusement in his eyes deepened. Though Paris' place was only two blocks away, somehow, it was hard to say no.

I gave another shrug, but, this time, a smile couldn't help but sneak through. "Sure, if you insist."

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**Thanks for reading!**

What do you guys think about Logan's character (being a 32 yr old womanizer and all) and his request to be just friends with Rory? The next chapter is going to be interesting and I'm itching to write it.

I'm working on finishing Ch 21 of LoF today. Hopefully, I'll have it up by tomorrow :)

Thanks for your reviews and follows!


	6. Chapter 6

►Chapter Six◄

"I thought I was dropping you off, or have we decided to do a stakeout to bust an alleged heroin dealer instead?" Logan leaned into the steering wheel and peered through the passenger window.

"This is where Paris lives." I tried to stifled a laugh seeing how serious and concerned he looked, examining Paris' apartment and the neighborhood. Poor, little rich boy. This must be hell for him compared to the luxurious penthouse he lived in.

His brows knitted together as his eyes darted to the windshield. I followed his gaze and saw a suspicious looking shadow sitting by the curb, a few feet away from where Logan's Porsche was parked.

"I thought you said she's a doctor?" Logan asked, his jaws tightening. I could see the 'fight or flight' response being elicited in his brain.

"She's finishing up her residency." I said as the man on the curb looked up, directly at us. Quickly, I looked away and focused on Logan's profile. His tense features were perfectly sculpted under the moonlight.

"Still, if she can afford Med school, surely she can afford something better than this." He gestured at the building's aged, brick walls.

"Well, she's always believed in finding the best bargains when it comes to living quarters. This place's a lot better than the ones we stayed in at Yale."

His brow shot up. "I somehow find that hard to believe."

"I'm serious." I chuckled, pointing to the entrance where the lights were flickering. "It even has an intercom by the front door. Top security, I tell ya."

He scoffed, his brows nearly stitched together. "All right, then. Want me to walk you to the door?"

"It's like three feet away." An automatic protest came out my mouth, though I was pleasantly surprised by his considerate side.

"But, so is that guy." He nodded towards the shadow.

Laughing, I reached for the handle on the passenger door. His protectiveness was unexpected and, I'll admit, adorable. "Fine, I'll message you right when I get inside. How about that?"

The truth was, I didn't want Logan to come to the door because I had to buzz Paris. Knowing her, she was probably going to interrogate me with inappropriate questions right over the intercom.

"I'll be waiting." He said as I got out of the car. I could hear the smirk in his tone. Boy, was I getting to know this guy well.

Standing on the sidewalk, I waved at Logan. He gave me a nod with a grin in response, before his eyes darted to the guy on the curb once more.

Smiling to myself, I made my way to the building's entrance. The night air was chilly, prickling my exposed skin above my thick scarf. At the door, I pressed the number 311 for Paris' unit and heard the rings come through, loud in the quiet air. As I waited, I watched my breaths leave my mouth in halos of white, before disappearing into the dark.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

My thoughts drifted to Logan and his concern back at the car. Biting down on my lip, I tried hard to keep from smiling like a lunatic. Though he drove me up the wall at times, there was also this side to him that pulled at my heart. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to get to know him better as friends. He would make a damn hot friend.

"Hello?" Paris' loud voice made me jump out of my reverie.

"Paris, it's me, Rory. Open up."

"Who?"

With my hands in my jacket pockets, I leaned my mouth into the speaker. "Rory."

"Oh, Rory..."

I rolled my eyes at her response. What was she playing at now? "Yes, dear Paris. It's minus a thousand degrees, and I would like to go inside before I lose my toes."

"It's only eight. You can't come in."

"What?" I put my ear to the speaker, hoping I heard her wrong.

"You're spending the night at his place. Besides, Doyle and I have plans."

My head bounced back at the volume. I protested. "Paris!"

"Opportunities don't just appear out of thin air, Rory. You need to take this chance to sleep with the millionaire and win his heart."

"He's _not_ a millionaire." I groaned, turning briefly to look at the street. I froze at the silver Porsche still parked by the sidewalk. Oh god, he's still here?!

Hastily turning back to the intercom, I begged. "Paris, just let me in."

The sound of a car window rolling down made me turn back to Logan. I saw him behind the wheel, calling out. "Everything okay?"

I answered with a forced smile. "Yeah, brilliant." Then, I spun around to face the intercom again, growing anxious.

"Oh! Was that him?"

"Let me in, Paris."

"Great start, Rory."

"I'm serious."

"Now, go get him."

"No, Paris. You let me in this instant." Losing my patience, I tried at a firm tone.

Completely ignoring me, she continued. "But, don't forget protection until he's gotten checked. Who knows how many STDs he carries. I put five condoms in your purse earlier. You do use our bathroom after all."

"Oh god." I groaned. "You don't get STDs from the bathroom." Of all the things wrong with her sentence, I chose that part to focus on. I was clearly losing my mind.

"Don't even start. That's a huge debate for another day. Oh-" Some shuffling noises came from her end. "Doyle's getting naked now and he needs my help. If you know what I mean."

"_Ew_."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rory."

"What?!"

A click came through and, then, there was silence.

"Paris?" My fingers shook as I dialed 311 again. This time, it rang once before it disconnected.

Oh my god. With my palm pressed against the wall, I slumped forward and drooped my head. _Why_ must Paris be Paris?

"She must think a lot of me to put in_ five_ condoms." A husky voice from behind made me jerk around.

"Logan." I blinked, confirming that he was indeed there, wearing that smart-ass smirk. He was leaning against the cement pole with his hands in his pockets, a feet away. My face turned beet red when I realized he was real. "Oh gosh, how much did you hear?"

"Just me, or the whole neighborhood?" A flippant grin split his face.

"Ugh." My hand ran through my hair as I turned away.

I heard him walk over and felt his arm nudge my shoulder. "Come on, I guess you have no where else to go but my place."

With my eyes on the ground, I stumbled to follow him down the walkway. Staring at my brown, leather boots, I muttered. "I'm going to kill Paris."

A soft chuckle came from Logan. Then, he tsked. "You know, this is a _really_ low trick to get into my pants."

Horrified, my head snapped up. Seeing him shake his head with a glint of amusement in his eyes and a huge smirk, I stopped in my track and growled. "I'm not trying to get into your pants!"

My voice echoed in the night air like a blaring siren. Out of my peripheral, I saw the guy on the curb turn to the sound. Glaring at Logan, I was too irate at him and Paris to care.

"Woah, you have a bad temper." He tilted his head with curled lips. "I'll add that to the reasons of why you're 30 and single."

"Ughh." To think I was starting to like this guy. "You're so annoying that I have no words."

"You're mature for your age." He chuckled.

"Oh no, wait." I raised a finger. "I've found some."

His eyebrows shot up. "Go on."

"Jerk, ass, arrogant, conceited, womanizing manwhore, buttfaced miscreant." When I was done, I took a deep breath.

"Buttfaced miscreant?" His face scrunched, looking offended and bemused.

"Why do you always assume everyone's attracted to you?" I demanded.

"I'm sorry, buttfaced miscreant?"

"Here I am, thinking maybe you're not so bad and maybe we could be friends like you suggested-"

"Do you even know what that means?"

"You're not taking me seriously." I wanted to stomp my foot in frustration.

"Would that mean my face looks like a butt, or maybe it means-"

"Never mind." I cut him off in his stupid mumbles. "We're done talking." I turned and stalked towards his car.

I heard him chuckle and catch up to me, almost crashing into me by the passenger door. "Here, let me get that for you." He threw me, what he probably thought was, his best smile as he opened the door. Damn him and those dimples.

Without a word, I got in and continued to stew.

Walking around the front of the car, Logan opened the door and got into the driver's seat. After he started the engine, he turned to me and smiled. "So, what do you wanna do tonight?"

Ignoring him, I examined the view through the side window.

He chuckled and the car started moving out into the street. Just when I thought he was going to leave me in peace, he said, clearly stifling a laugh.

"By the way, I always use a condom in all of my womanizing, manwhoring duties. But, I wouldn't protest to a checkup if you and your friend, Paris, vehemently insist."

My fists balled. Every cell in my body almost exploded with the expletives flying through my mind, but I used all my self-control to ignore him and continue watching the window.

I'll be thankful if I don't die of a heart attack, having to endure him for the whole night.

* * *

**Thanks for reading**!

I'm recovering from the flu and felt like writing today. :) Thanks everyone who left well wishes on LoF.

Please let me know what you think! Are you looking forward to their night together? What do you think they will do? Hehe.

Oh and i just had to throw in the buttfaced miscreant quote. That was one of my favorite scenes. Logan's face was hilarious :P

Thanks for the reviews and follows! :)


	7. Chapter 7

►Chapter Seven◄

The elevator doors opened to reveal Logan's foyer. The place was elaborate and huge, with crystals hanging on the tips of the chandelier and floor length mirrors covering the walls. A pair of caramel leather loveseats sat facing each other in the middle of the space, a foot away from a black metallic fireplace. At one corner of the room was a tall, black and white armoire where Logan had placed my coat and scarf the other day.

"Here, Miss. Let me take your jacket." Logan extended a palm at me, his eyes crinkling with mirth. He had been on his best behavior for the past while, helping me with the doors, throwing in conversation starters and even some compliments to get me talking. As always, he was best at annoying me one minute and being adorable the next.

Forcing on a solemn face, I snuck out of my black trench coat and unwrapped my white scarf, handing them to him.

"You're very welcome." He smirked, turning to store the items away.

"I didn't thank you." My sharp voice darted after him, through the large space.

He spun around on the spot, an eyebrow in the air. "Hey, you talked."

Supressing a smile, I rolled my eyes and headed towards the living room.

"Go ahead, make yourself at home." He called after me.

I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes finding his. "Don't mind if I do, _friend_."

►It's about time◄

"Come on, I'll make you coffee." Dragging me up from the couch, Logan grinned. He pulled me beside him and grabbed my shoulders, pushing me towards the kitchen. By my ear, he whispered. "I'll even put the filter the slightly fuzzier side up, just like how you taught me."

A chortle came out my throat, having unsuccessfully contained my amusement. Tilting my head back to get a view of his chin, I frowned. "Are you making fun of my protocol?"

"Oh no, of course not. How would I dare?" He said in a mock serious tone.

Giggling, I nodded. "Good."

In the kitchen, he busied himself with the coffee maker while I retrieved the mugs from the cupboard. Somehow, being in his apartment felt natural, as if we had known each other for a while. If there was one thing he was better at than being a pain in the ass, it was making me feel comfortable in his presence, no matter how irritating I found him at times.

With the mugs dangling in my hands, I peered over his arm to watch his actions.

"The pot's not completely dry." I nudged his shoulder, seeing the two droplets of water dripping down the inside.

He heaved, letting out a long breath. Complying, he removed the pot and scooted over to grab a paper towel. Wiping the plastic, he said. "Just curious, have you heard of OCD?"

Shooting him a glare, I lectured. "The manual specified the exact ratio of water to coffee beans for this brand. If your pot's not entirely dry that just _completely_ throws off the formula."

Shaking his head, his gaze landed on mine, his eyes a gold under the bright kitchen light. "I meant to say your obsession and pickiness with caffeine is endearing." His tone was suddenly low and smooth, snaking into my heart.

Feeling heat brush my cheeks, my eyes darted to the counter as I retorted. "And your inability to read instructions fascinate me."

Peaking through my lashes, I saw his shoulders shake as soft chuckles caressed my ears.

The effect he had on me was mind boggling. How could he make my head boil and my heart beat faster all at the same time? I concluded that it must be those eyes. Numerous women must have fallen victim to their spell. _Rory Gilmore, you are _not_ going to be one of them.  
_

►It's about time◄

"Logan Huntzberger. What is this?" My mouth hung open while I stared at the familiar movie appearing on the large TV screen. Sticking the bowl of popcorn in the space between my crossed legs, I turned to him on the couch. "I'm shocked."

Crossing his arms, he smirked. "See, I'm a man true to my words. I said I would give _Casablanca_ a try for you and that's what I'm gonna do."

"Wow, I'm genuinely impressed." I beamed at him while throwing a popcorn into my mouth.

"But, we'll watch one of my picks after this." He wiggled a brow before he added. "If I make it through the movie."

"Deal." I stuck out my pinky finger in front of his chest.

Looking down at it, he snickered. "Real mature." His pinky found mine and hooked on, giving one firm shake.

"You're welcome, in advance." My chin raised in his direction as my shoulder nudged his.

He playfully returned my gesture, but with much more force. His nudge sent me swaying to a side. "Hey!" I exclaimed, giggling.

His fingers caught my arm, pulling me back in. I couldn't help the huge grin on my face.

►It's about time◄

At first, we sat close together on the couch, digging at the popcorn while watching the movie. Logan made comments here and there, to which I would retort before telling him to keep quiet. As the movie went on and the plot thickened, Logan's complaints became longer and more emotionally charged. In his own words, he didn't like the melodramatic music. He didn't understand Rick's undying love for Ilsa even though she betrayed him. He couldn't stand the woman's indecision and stubbornness. And don't even get him started on the horrible hair styles. Towards the end, he wouldn't stop criticizing each and every scene. I was surprised he still knew what was going on or heard any word because we were arguing over the sound the whole time.

"She's just a typical treacherous woman, sleeping with anyone who brings her benefits." He jabbed a palm at the screen, disapproval clear in his voice.

"No, she's _not_." I frowned, slapping his hand away so it wasn't blocking my view. "It's a lot more complicated than that. There are so many other factors-"

"What do the guys see in her anyway? Sure, she's hot and has those Angelina Jolie lips but that's not exactly marriage material."

"Oh my god, you men are disgusting." I groaned. "Can't you see past the face and boobs and get into the motifs and drives of the characters?"

"I'm trying, but all I see is bs." He laughed at my obvious frustration.

"Shh!" My finger poked his lips to shush him when I saw what was coming up. "This is my favorite part."

Against my finger, he mumbled. "Is she going to cheat on her husband with Rick and have it seem like it's no big deal?" His breaths were hot and moist, enveloping my flesh. Feeling my stomach twitch at the sensation, I quickly withdrew my hand.

With a pounding heart, I stole a quick glare. "Just shut up and watch."

Every time this scene between Rick and Ilsa was on, my eyes would be glued to the screen . Considering the number of times my mom and I watched the movie, I had every line memorized. In my head, I whispered the words along with Ilsa as she stood, wrapped in Rick's arms. The music in the background was slow and melancholic, embracing their unshed tears.

_"The day you left Paris... If you knew what I went through." Ilsa pulled back from his hold, looking up at Rick with tears brimming her eyes_

_"If you knew how much I loved you..." She whispered, close to his lips. "How much I still love you..."_

_Rick leaned in, pulling her towards him until her head fell back and their lips melted together. His hand traveled to her neck, holding her in place._

My heart melted at the scene every time. Realizing my tense shoulders, I leaned back into the couch. I sighed, shaking my head slowly with my eyes never leaving the screen. "You can just see it in the way he looks at her. The way he kisses her, like it was the first and last time. I want to be kissed like that. Someday I'll find a guy and-"

Cutting me off mid-sentence, a force on my cheek ripped my gaze away from the TV, turning my head towards Logan. His hand cupped my face as he pulled me into a sudden, deep kiss.

"Mm." The sound came out my nose when his lips crashed into mine. My eyes closed as he kissed me hard and long. My head swayed, only brought back in by his firm hold as his lips brushed against mine. My whole body was buzzing from the intensity of his scent, his breath and his taste hitting my senses. His tongue licked wet trails on my lips, causing them to part and take him in. Feeling my insides clench with desire, my tongue twirled with his, exploring every depth of his mouth. Sucking softly on my bottom lip, Logan's hold on the sides of my face tightened and he pulled away.

Panting, my heart was beating out of my chest. I could feel him close as his breaths washed over my face, sending shivers down my back.

Opening my eyes, I muttered between breaths. "What. The. Hell. Logan?"

His solid, caramel eyes locked with mine as he whispered. "There, you can check that off your bucket list."

With the intensity behind his smirk burning into me, and the heat from his fingers on the pulse on my neck, my face leaned in again. This time, our lips met slowly, caressing each other. My arms wrapped around his neck as my chest pressed against his. I got up on my knees to lean into him further, sending the bowl of popcorn clanging on the wood floors.

Pulling away, Logan asked, his eyes searching mine. "Are you sure about this?"

"Mm-" I barely got a sound out before he kissed me again.

Pushing into him as our kiss deepened, he leaned back into the couch cushions, pulling me on top of him. Feeling his hard, warm body under me, my stomach bunched together, sending pulses down my legs. No longer able to think rationally, I tucked at the end of his shirt, searching for the buttons.

Before we went any further, he broke apart from the kiss. His lips were pink and swollen, pumping ragged breaths out onto my skin. "You remembered what I said at dinner?

Looking into his eyes, I whispered. "Maybe just for one night?" In that moment, I just knew I wanted him. Those eyes. Those lips. I wanted him tonight. I no longer wanted to be that girl who shied away from every spontaneous moment in life. I wanted to experience what my heart was telling me in the instant.

Lifting his head to kiss me once, he asked softly. "And we'll still be friends?"

The corner of my lips curled. "Yes." I whispered, knowing I believed in it.

With a grunt, he clenched the collar of my sweater and pulled it hard, causing my body to crash into his with a thump. His hands traveled up my thighs as we were consumed in each other once more. With our lips never breaking contact, he sat up. He slid his arms under my legs and back and carried me off the couch. With my arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, he feathered wet, hot kisses down my neck, finding his way into the bedroom.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

What do you think? Are you surprised that Rory gave in to the temptation? And, more importantly, what's going to happen after this...?

Thanks for the reviews and follows!


	8. Chapter 8

►Chapter Eight◄

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Sharp, loud sounds startled me from my sleep. It was a torture to my ears.

The brightness of the room washed over my closed eyelids, making me squeeze my eyes tighter. "Ughh." I flipped onto my side and folded the pillow over my ear.

"Mm." A grunt came from behind as I heard a hand slap the bedside table repeatedly, trying to feel for the alarm clock.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Make it stop." I groaned. "Who has alarms on a Sunday?"

"I'm trying." Logan's mumble was muffled by the pillow still covering my cheek.

With a final swat, silence flooded the air.

Releasing the pillow with relief, I let out a breath. I could hear my thoughts again.

It was Sunday, and I had sex with Logan last night. Oh god.

For once in my life, I was spontaneous. Now, I was naked in bed with a man who I've only met twice. Of course, to make matters worse, he has repeatedly told me he wasn't looking for anything serious. Paris must be terribly proud.

What's done is done, I told myself. I'd said I wasn't looking for anything serious after Dean. I'd wanted to see what was out there. Well, a gorgeous, non-committal guy who could be protective and sweet at times was what I got. I could chalk it up as experience and move on.

My mellowness surprised me. Without a doubt, it had to do with the man sleeping behind me, his body warming my back. There was definitely something about him. I had never been this calm after having sex with a stranger. Well, that's because I've never had sex with a stranger. But, it didn't change the fact that Logan made me feel comfortable and calm.

He jerked under the covers. The sheets shuffled as he turned. "Did you say it's Sunday?"

"Mmhm." I slowly rolled over. Opening one eye, I peaked at his face. Tiny specks of dust flew in the air, lit by the sun beams. He looked ten years younger, with his hair a light gold and his long, curled lashes catching drops of sun. My lips curved at the sight. It could be my little secret - watching him in the morning, post a night of amazing sex. No one had to know.

His eyes remained closed as his lips parted. "Sunday...?" Slowly, his brows furrowed before his eyes fluttered open. "Today's Sunday?!"

My hands flew to my ears. "Yes, Mister. Today's Sunday."

"What time is it?" He flopped on the mattress and swung for the clock. Raising his head to read the time, he breathed. "Oh, it's twelve."

"Holy crap, twelve?" I was never one to sleep in. On the weekends, I would be up by eight at the latest, working on my articles or running errands. How late did we sleep last night? Remembering his lips on mine, and our sweat covered bodies pressed together, I quickly shut away the thought.

"Why do you have an alarm set to twelve?" I asked, still trying to forget the feel of his hands on my thighs, brushing it so softly.

His eyes closed while his head fell back into the pillow with a thump. "Honor's coming in an hour."

My eyes popped out of my sockets as I breathed out fire. "Wow, you really book them back to back, huh?"

Cocking his head, he looked at me. "Huh?" Comprehension registered in his eyes. "Oh no, no. Honor's my older sister. She's bringing her kids over because I'm babysitting for her today."

"Oh." My cheeks heated, realizing I reacted like a crazed, jealous wife. "Wait, you babysit?"

A sluggish grin touched his face. "Yeah, why? I don't look the type?"

"Can't say you do." I shook my head against the pillow.

He chuckled, his voice scratchy and deep. "I babysit once in a while when Honor and Josh want a day to themselves. Besides, I like hanging out with the munchkins."

"Look at you talking about kids." I couldn't help smiling. "I would never have guessed. Mr. Womanizing Manwhore likes kids."

He titled his head back, laughing. "What can I say? I'm an onion."

"'Cause you're smelly?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he moved closer. "You didn't seem to think so last night."

Giggling, I jerked back. "Well, then, I should get going and leave you to the kids." Scooting to the edge of the bed, I felt the bed sheet smooth against my skin. Gasping at the realization, I exclaimed. "Wait. I'm naked."

"Is that a not-so-subtle hint for a morning quickie?"

I sank down into the mattress, wrapping the covers tightly against myself. 'No!" Feeling my body temperature rise, I asked hastily. "Where are my clothes?"

He sat up, his perfectly toned upper body in all its glory, and looked around the room. "Over there." He pointed to my side of the floor.

Eyeing the spot he was pointing to, I said. "Turn around or close your eyes."

"What?" He chuckled. "Come on, I've already seen you naked."

"This is different." I shot him a look. "By the definition of a one-night stand, it's reserved for night time. It's the morning. So, in the morning, you don't get to see nothing."

"That was a one-night stand?" He turned to meet my eyes.

"Is that not what you kids call it these days?"

"Hm." He shrugged. "I just thought you would pin me to commit. I didn't think you do one-night stands."

For a minute, I stared at him incredulously.

"I'm not deaf, Logan." Suddenly angry at his terrified tone, thinking I would force him to commit, I snapped. "I heard you loud and clear when you said you're not looking to commit. So, yes, I was very aware of my decision last night, knowing that if I slept with you, it would, essentially, be a one-night stand amongst your many."

Huffing, I gathered as much of the blanket as I could and wrapped it around my chest. "But, I'm a grown woman and I can take the responsibility for my actions. So, you can relax, I'm not going to try to pin anything on you." Getting off the bed, I grabbed my clothes off the floor and headed for his bathroom without as much as a backwards glance.

Shutting the door, I leaned against it, breathing deeply to calm myself.

Ugh, I hated him. I barely knew him, but I hated him anyway. I hated his stupid nonchalance when it came to anything. His confidence in everything he does. Like whatever he did or said was all right. I was an idiot to give in to his advances last night. Yet, what I hated the most was that as much as I wanted to, I couldn't even bring myself to regret it. What the hell was happening to me?

Remembering that his sister was going to be here soon, I quickly got dressed. When I stepped out of the bathroom, Logan was dressed and straightening out the bed sheet.

He turned to me when he heard the door open. He smiled, like I didn't just throw a tantrum while running into his bathroom wrapped in his blanket. "You look good."

Rolling my eyes, I muttered. "I'm wearing the exact same thing as last night."

"Well, you looked good last night too." When I didn't reply, he came towards me. Softly, he said. "I'm sorry, Rory, if I made you mad. I shouldn't have kissed you last night."

I felt foolish about how I acted. I had willingly slept with him, yet I was trying to blame it on him. Not meeting his gaze, I looked at my knotted fingers in front of my stomach. "You don't need to apologize. You didn't force me into anything." Looking up, I gave a shrug. "I made the decision for myself, knowing where you stood."

Pursing his lips, he said. "I told you I want to be friends, and I meant it." His expression was serious, his mouth in a firm line. "I think you're special."

"What?" My face scrunched, trying to understand what he meant. "Special, like 'stop eating the paste' special?"

"You're ambitious, smart, funny and definitely girlfriend material. While I'm..." He shrugged, looking down. "Definitely not boyfriend material." He sighed and looked me in the eyes. "I can't do commitment. I'm not ready. And I don't want to pretend to you like I am. I'm sorry."

Touching his arm, I said. "Logan, it's fine." I felt the need to comfort him as I'd never seen him this vulnerable and honest. "I just came out of a five year relationship, and it obviously didn't go well. The last thing I want is to jump into a relationship." Seeing relief touch his eyes, I gave a small smile. "Let alone with someone who's a self-confessed commitment-phobe."

He held my arms, asking gently. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure I don't want a relationship."

At that moment, I knew I meant it. I didn't want to be in a relationship. Not yet. For once, I didn't want to think about the big picture, about what I would want a month from now, and whether I might get hurt. All I wanted to do was live in the moment. It was something I'd never done in my thirty years. It was something I was ready for.

"So, we can be friends?" He lowered his body to face me, eye to eye.

I nodded.

"I need to hear you say it."

Rolling my eyes, I said. "We can be friends."

At my words, a huge grin split his face, reaching his eyes. "So, friend, do you have plans for the day?"

"Why?"

"I'm taking the kids to the park for a game of Frisbee." He walked to the closet door and opened it. Disappearing inside, I heard him call out. "I was thinking I could use some help. It would be fun."

Frowning, I went over and leaned by the closet doorway. "Would your sister be okay with it?"

"Yeah, why not?" He sauntered towards me, flashing an excited smile. "She would love you. You can meet her when she gets here."

"Wow, aren't you full of surprises?" I smirked. "First, you say we're friends. Then, you kiss me."

He tilted his head, looking innocent.

Placing my hands on my hips, my smirk grew. "_Then_, you say you can't commit. _Now_, you ask me to meet your sister and hang with her kids?"

"Sounds about right." He nodded, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Hey, this is exciting for me. I've never really had a female friend before."

Laughing, I rolled my eyes. "I'll bet."

"Come on, Rory." He grabbed my wrist, leading me out the room. "Spend the day with me. It'll be fun. You'll love those munchkins." He handed me the bath towel he got from the closet. "You can shower and get ready in the guest room. Mrs. Greene stocked up the products the other day."

Hurrying to follow his speedy footsteps, I asked. "Mrs. Greene?"

Stopping by a door, he explained. "She's my housekeeper."

My brows shot up. "You have a housekeeper?"

He gave a sheepish grin. "She just comes in every week to tidy things up a little."

Shaking my head, I tsked. "Next, you're gonna tell me there's a butler hiding around somewhere."

He laughed, opening the guest room door. "Nope, no butlers. Just me and you. My new friend."

"So, the kids." I spun around after entering the room. "What are their names?"

"Max and Callie." His grin was that of a little boy, his hair even more ruffled than usual. "Max's 4 and Callie's 6."

"I can't wait to meet them." I smiled back, caught up in his excitement.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

So, their relationship is a bit unclear and complicated right now. But, in 1 or 2 chapters, they will spell things out clearer. (Though it probably will still sound complicated, but at least there will be defined rules.)

Are you excited for them to spend the day with Honor's kids? I know I am. :P

I hope you guys liked this chapter! Please let me know!

Thanks for the reviews. I loved hearing what you guys think will happen. :)


	9. Chapter 9

►Chapter Nine◄

"Uncle Lo!" The little boy, who must be Max, squealed, jumping into Logan's outreached arms as soon as he opened the door.

"Hey, buddy." Logan chuckled, lifting Max up and carrying him by his hip.

"Good afternoon, Uncle Logan." A soft, graceful voice came from the girl standing by her mom, holding onto her hand. Callie, I assumed, smiled up at Logan with big, brown eyes and a finger glued to her mouth.

He laughed and reached to smooth her blonde hair. "Good afternoon, little princess."

Seeing a completely different side to the man I'd known last night, I watched with a smile.

"Don't bite your nails, honey." The girl's mom gently nudged her hand away. Callie clung onto the lady's hips, while darting glances at me and Logan.

The lady was decked out in an impeccable grey blazer with her light blonde hair pulled neatly into a bun. A kind smile touched her face along with faint lines around her eyes as she looked at Logan, and then at me. I could have sworn her eyes squinted slightly, as if in curiosity. Feeling nervous under her scrutiny, I gave a smile.

Stepping forward, she pulled Logan into a hug with the boy still in his arm. "Hey, little brother. How've you been?"

"Not too bad." He held her at arm's length. "You're looking good, Honor. I see Josh is taking good care of you."

"Please." She gave him a playful slap. "As long as he's not causing trouble around the house along with the kids, I'm happy."

Logan chuckled as he moved to a side. "I want you to meet my friend." He gestured towards me. "This is Rory."

Honor's face lit up at the introduction. She immediately extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Rory." Her pitch rose as her eyes danced in their sockets. "I'm Honor." Clearly, Logan didn't introduce female friends to his sister much.

I took her hand with a smile. "Hi Honor, it's really nice to meet you."

Holding my hand, her eyes grew wider along with her grin. From the way she was looking at me, I felt like a new, interesting species at the zoo.

"I invited Rory to join me and the kids at the park today." Logan's voice seemed to startle her out of her daze as she retrieved her hand. "We can play some Frisbee."

"Frisbee!" Max squealed, flinging his little arm in the air.

"Yeah, you like Frisbee?" Logan laughed, tickling Max's belly.

The boy giggled, nodding his head furiously.

"That sounds great." Honor patted Callie's head. "I hope you guys have fun with these two." She grinned from me to Logan, her gaze staying on him for a few seconds.

Through her smile, I could see her brain reeling at meaning of my presence. Well, that made two of us, since I was still bewildered by the thought of spending the day with Logan.

Leaning down, she said to Callie. "Be good and listen to Uncle Logan, all right?"

Callie nodded while Honor brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Uncle Logan?" The girl edged towards him, her voice small. "Do you have a princess Frisbee?"

"Princess Frisbee? Well, I have a couple Frisbees in the game room. How about you pick one out with Max?" He held out an arm towards Callie while his other supported Max's weight.

She gave a small smile and nodded, slipping her hand into his.

"I want to pick!" Max wiggled in Logan's arm until he let him down. "Frisbee! Frisbee! Here I come!" Giggling, he ran across the vast foyer, towards the living room.

Callie laughed softly, tugging on Logan's hand. "Come on, let's go pick."

He turned to look at Honor and me, giving an apologetic smile. "You guys want to come? Or you can chat a bit on the couch."

Before I could reply, Honor spoke up. "It's okay, you guys go ahead. Rory and I can wait. I've to get going soon anyway."

His eyes locked with mine before he left, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't talk bad about me behind my back, Honor."

"I'll try." Her voice was that of amusement as she rushed to my side, ushering me towards the loveseats by the fireplace. "Here, Rory. Have a seat.'

"Thanks." I nodded with her close behind.

►It's about time◄

We sat down at the large sofas, facing each other. She crossed her legs and sat up straight. "So, Rory. Pardon me for prying-" She flashed a friendly smile. "-but, how long have you been seeing my brother?"

Surprised by her straightforward question, I stuttered. "Uh, oh, no. We're not seeing each other."

"You're not?" Her brows knitted.

My face began to flush. I felt like a giant gorilla in the room. "No, Logan and I are just friends." Friends who had sex 'till three in the morning last night, but she didn't need to know that.

"Oh." If I wasn't mistaken, she looked disappointed. " I thought you must be someone really special if he wanted us to meet."

Really special? I knew I wasn't any more special than his next date. "Well, nope. Not any special." I gave a light laugh and shrugged. "Just your average friend who you hung out with on a Sunday afternoon."

Honor scooted closer. "It's just that I've never seen him with any girl before, _ever_. He keeps that part of his life really private." She smirked, resembling her brother in a way. "If I didn't know better, I would think he was playing for the other team."

I chuckled. "Wow, I'm surprised." The Logan I knew was always on dates. The fact that he's never brought those girls to any family gatherings, even social events, shocked me. "I guess he did say he doesn't really have female friends."

Her head nodding, she beamed at me, as if I was a newly discovered miracle drug. "So, you're the first."

Nodding back awkwardly, I shifted in my spot. "Yeah, I guess I'm the first." Seeing her continued stare, I quickly changed the subject. "Thanks for letting me join Logan and your kids at the park later. Are you okay with it?"

She waved a hand, while looking down to adjust her blazer. "Oh yeah, it's fine. I completely trust Logan." Smoothing her hair, she added. "He's really great with them."

Remembering how natural Logan was holding Max and walking off with Callie's hand in his, I smiled. "Yeah, they seem to really like him."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." She laughed, throwing her head back. "Every time after he babysits, I have to hear about him for days from Max and Callie." Her head shook. "It's always Uncle Lo this, Uncle Lo that. They totally think he's way cooler than Josh and I."

Giggling, I felt myself relax. "They're really adorable."

She smiled at me before starting nonchalantly. "So, how did Logan and you meet?"

Oh crap. I tried hard to keep the smile on my face without looking like a deer in headlights. How was I going to explain that we met on a dating website, and almost had sex right after, but then decided to be friends, only to have sex the second date?

Racking my brain for some partial truth, I answered. "We-"

"Mommy! Look! We're using a Spider-man Frisbee today!" I turned to see Max running through the archway, elatedly waving a blue and red disc in the air.

I let out a breath of relief at the interruption. Honor stood up and caught Max as he ran into her legs. "That's awesome, honey." She rubbed his cheeks that were pink with excitement.

"And we have the pink Frisbee I bought just for this little girl here, too." Logan walked over, holding Callie's hand.

"Aw, did you say 'thank you' to Uncle Logan?" Honor reminded her daughter.

Callie looked up at Logan, tilting her head far back. Sweetly, she murmured. "Thanks, Uncle Logan."

"You're welcome." He grinned.

"Well, I need to get going now. Josh is waiting for me." Honor smiled at me before turning to Logan. "As always, I'll be on standby if you need any rescuing."

"What are you talking about? We're going to be having tons of fun." He smirked and nodded to the kids. "Right, guys?"

Max jumped up and down, bursting into giggles in response. Callie bit her nails while she nodded subtly.

"It was really nice meeting you, Rory. I hope to see you around." Honor and I shook hands once more, her eyes twinkling into mine with sincerity.

"You too, Honor." I smiled gently.

Releasing my hand, she said to Logan. "Josh has been wanting to get together. You should bring Rory next time."

Logan cocked an eyebrow, probably finally catching on to his sister's delight over my presence. "We'll see if Rory wants to come." His statement turned their attention on me.

"Uh, well, yeah I would love to, to hang-." I gulped, before ending my sentence. "-out." Her suggestion caught me off guard. I could only answer politely, albeit in stutters.

Surprise dawned on Logan's face as his brows shot up. He chuckled with his eyes boring into mine. "Well, then, we'll find a time and…_hang_."

Hearing his amused mockery, my skin heated. Did he really have to annoy me in front of his sister as well? "_Perfect_." I tried hard not to snap.

Honor glanced from me to Logan and back, watching us like we were cute, apple-juggling monkeys at a performance. "That's fabulous." She clapped her hands together. "We'll set a time."

It was clear that she was over-enthusiastic about the idea of Logan with a girl. I feared how she would react when she realizes that Logan and I were nowhere near the adorable, fuzzy couple she'd imagined. We weren't even a couple, period.

When Honor headed for the elevator, a whimper filled the air. "Mommy…" Callie's lips quivered as she followed her mom.

Stooping down, Honor hugged her. "Be good, baby. You're a big girl now, remember?"

"Mm." With tears rolling down her cheeks, Callie nodded.

"Bye Mommy!" Max screamed, climbing over the couches and waving at his mom.

"Bye, honey. Be good and listen to Uncle Logan." She blew a kiss at Max, who returned the gesture with a loud smack.

When the elevator came, she looked at me and Logan before stepping inside. "Have fun, you two."

"Honor." Logan said her name as a warning. "I believe Josh is waiting."

"Yes, yes. I'm going." She waved. "See you soon, Rory."

I nodded with a smile, waving as the elevator doors closed.

►It's about time◄

Wow, in just two days, I managed to snag my first one-night stand, and then made plans with the guy's sister and brother-in-law. I was also about to babysit his nephew and niece. Ironically, this was more commitment than if I was_ in_ a relationship. For a guy who feared commitment, Logan was oddly calm about this.

Though, I had to admit. This messy situation was kind of exciting. It's sad to think that in my thirty years, _this_ was the most eccentric and exciting thing I'd come across. But, I suppose it's never too late in life to stir things up.

Looking up at Logan, I gave a smile. _Thank you for being the weirdest person I know and turning my world upside down._

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please leave a review! I would love to hear your feedback!**

I think Rory's got herself into a pretty interesting situation. But, the good thing is, she seems open about it. I think it's because of her reserved years with Dean that, now, she's looking forward to something different.

Logan's actions are obviously conflicting with his words. He's never had a relationship before and I feel he doesn't understand his feelings for Rory. He just knows he wants to spend more time with her, but he's scared he'll screw things up, so he asks to be friends. So that's my take on the situation so far :P I usually refrain from telling my opinion because I'm afraid it will influence your own take on the story. But, I couldn't help it this time because this is such a weird situation, haha. So what do you guys think? Do you agree or disagree with my thoughts?

Thanks for the reviews and follows! I really appreciate them.

I love reading your reviews and love it when I see new readers. Please let me know what you think, whether you like the story or not. I don't even mind if you give me a paragraph about why you hate it :P I just love to hear from the readers!


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